Page 3 of Kiss me Forever

We chat some more as we finish our lunch, and then she walks me back to the library while I jump right back into things. As the afternoon wears on, my least favorite part of the day comes into play, and I head into my office to do paperwork. I don’t understand how people can sit at a computer all day as it’s absolutely miserable. I can handle it for no more than a couple of hours before I start pulling my own hair out, and my hair is way too nice to destroy.

It’s a nice caramel color, and I keep it long because I can do so much more with it. Sure, I throw it in many buns, but when I want to get fancy, I’ve watched enough YouTube videos to give it some pizazz. That’s usually a weekend thing.

My paperwork takes me longer than I like, and by the time I’m finished, it’s time to shut down the library. Everyone’s gone home for the day, including Mrs. Hargrove. I start shutting off lights and checking every corner of the library. I’ve never had someone try to stay in at closing time, but you never know when someone might be asleep in one of the private reading corners in the place. I’ve found a few people napping before.

I finally close the doors and lock them, then make my way down the sunny streets. I love the summer when it’s light outside for so much longer. I’d love to have a garden to attend to, and maybe someday I’ll have a house with a big backyard, but that isn’t at the top of my priorities at the moment. Right now, it’s better to have zero yard maintenance. I can spend more time reading this way.

When I finally step inside my small place, I cook an easy dinner, then sit back with my favorite book and get comfortable. Another day has come and gone, and tomorrow will be just as beautiful. I don’t know why so many people want changes in their lives because I think mine is just about as perfect as it gets. It can stay just this way from here until eternity. Why? Because each new day is a brand-new adventure and that is a perfect plot in a book.

Chapter Two

Piper

Another day, another reason to smile. It’s been a busy morning at the library and I’m keeping busy stacking new books and pulling some old ones for the summer sale we do each year. As much as it hurts me to ever get rid of books, we only have so much space and need to make room for new ones. We do have some that will always stay on the shelves, but others rotate in and out. We’re lucky here because we get a lot of donations, which is great, and helps keep our budget healthy.

I finish shelving my books, then make my rounds to help out some of my favorite regulars when the bell on the door chimes. If I’m near the door I always look up to see who’s come in. I can usually tell within seconds if they’ll need help, or if they simply want to enjoy some peace and quiet. I want to always be available without smothering people.

I stop in my tracks when an all too familiar man walks inside my sanctuary, a mouth-wateringly tall, dark-haired man with a strong, chiseled jawline, a delicious body, and an heir around him that simply commands attention.

I’ve had many crushes in life, but I don’t know if I can say a man has ever made my jaw drop before. This man has made more than just my jaw to drop open. I instantly want to run and hide. It’s been a year since I drove him around when I stepped in to help my brother out. I never thought I’d see this man again. Of all the places in the world he could show up, why does it have to be my library?

The man steps forward, his piercing blue eyes scanning the room with an intensity that makes my heart skip a beat or two. When women describe men, we always talk about their looks, their bodies, and their demeanor. This man has an air of confidence about him that suggests he’s used to getting what he wants when he wants it. For some reason this turned me on a year ago, and it’s still affecting me the same way right now. I’m instantly annoyed with feeling this way. I don’t like being annoyed. I choose my mood. I certainly don’t less stressful situations bring me down.

The suit the man’s wearing is completely out of place in our small town, and certainly speaks of wealth and sophistication. I again wonder what in the world is he doing here? Did his chauffeured car break down and he broke his phone? I don’t take this man as someone who comes to many libraries. Everything about him screams control and authority, not casual, book reading nerd. Though the man and I didn’t have deep conversation while I was driving him around, we did have an intimate night together, a night I still can’t forget.

I prefer those geeky men who come into the library any day of the week over snobby men. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with nerds. We’re the ones who rule the world. But I’ve volunteered and worked in libraries since my elementary school days, and men like this one don’t ever appear through the doors. He’s an absolute contrast to the usual patrons who inhabit our beautiful library.

I’m still standing here staring at the man, most likely looking like a fish out of water, when I see him approach Mrs. Hargrove. I see her point in my direction, and quickly decide that I better pull myself together. It’s too late to run now. Maybe he won’t recognize me. It has been a year since we saw each other. My pulse quickens when he turns, makes eye contact with me, then heads in my direction, his strides purposeful and unwavering. It doesn’t take him more than a couple of seconds before he’s standing way too close for my comfort. This is unusual as I don’t normally have a personal bubble that so many others have.

He doesn’t bother with pleasantries. “Hello, Piper. It’s been a while.” He gets right to the point which I don’t know what to think about. “I’m looking for a rare book,” he says, his voice deep and as smooth and rich as molasses.

I internally shout at myself as I take in a nice steadying breath, forcing myself to calm down and act normal. I give him a big smile even if it’s forced. “Of course I can help you. What is it you’re looking for?”

“Endurance by Alfred Lansing. It’s about the journey of polar explorer, Ernest Shackleton who set sail for Antarctica where he planned to cross the last unchartered continent on foot.”

I’m shocked at what book this man is looking for. I know this book, but of course, I know many books, so that’s not a shock, but I’d never take him for a man to read about something that happened in 1915.

“This is a very good book. I know we’ve had copies of it in the past, but each time one comes in we have it in our rare book section for a while, then it sells during our summer sell off. I can check the back to see if we have any current copies now,” I tell him.

“You’d sell a copy you have?” he asks, clearly judging me for this. I get a bit defensive which isn’t like me at all.

“I’d keep every book I can if I had the space for it, but as you can see there are only so many shelves in here, and this is a small town so books like Endurance don’t get checked out a whole lot. I’d keep them myself at my place, but I’m already overflowing with books and literally have nowhere else to add another bookshelf.”

The man’s intense gaze seems to pierce straight through me and I have to remind myself to breathe. What is going on here? I’m an utter mess. The sooner I help this man, the sooner I can get him out of my library. I decide to go to the back and check on his book before I start hyperventilating.

He follows at my side, which I don’t normally mind, but was hoping he’d wait right where he was so I could take a moment to compose myself. My patrons will know something’s up if I tell him to wait for me as they know there really are no restricted areas in my library. I even let patrons come to my office to ask me questions. I like to be open, and feel this library belongs to them as much as to me as we wouldn’t have it in our small town without the funding of the people.

I take him to our back room where our books are categorized for the upcoming sale. I still feel a strange mixture of flustered and intrigued by this man I barely know. I’m thrown completely off kilter.

I move over to the paperwork which lists every book in this section. He stands far too close to me as he reads over the words at the same time as me. I can’t stand the silence any longer. I put on my brightest smile as I try to fill the silence with small talk.

“What brings you to our small town?”

“I’m just passing through, but heard that your library has a reputation for rare books. I thought I’d give it a try as I’ve been searching for this one for a while now.”

“I’m sure you can find it online if you look hard enough,” I tell him.

“I do some shopping online, but I find I like to buy things in person. That way I know exactly what I’m getting,” he says.

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